Moth and the light.

I speak of love most of the times
I dream of it: it  must be this way
People might express in this way,
Or may be the way through which
that actor confessed.
I move from flowers to buildings,
just to find out how it should be
expressed.
Should we write?
Should we bend on knees?
Do what?
In the middle of this
ethnographical research,
I found out
(Of course, to my surprise.)
That the most beautiful love story
Is so short that
It can never be written
Never be expressed.

These days.

These days,
a seed is scared of the soil
what if it makes me grow?
And then restricts
my growth just before
I reach close to the birth
of the leaves

This seed is scared of water
It feels that may be
I'll just bloom into a plant
and then this water turns
to a diminishing fire on me

"Nothing can be predicted."
The seed mutters a soliloquy,
"These days,
even the tongue has to be
scared of the teeth."

Voice

I hear a thousand voices

in one familiar voice

If there's a collection 

of human archives,

it indeed is our voice

we speak of the unspoken

or of spoken pasts

that has become a cliche

Intonations and pitches

make us discover people

and invent their emotions

sometimes in the art of imitation

sometimes in unknown deliberation

Your voice could remind 

somebody of Dashrath's promise

It could imitate Shakuntala's pain

Your voice can certainly

become some musician's delight

It could raise thunderstorms

or it could burn everything

with the permutation and 

combination of certain notes

You never know

what it could have done

what it has actually done

You delve in your own ears

when you should actually

delve into somebody's voice!

~Nishpriha

I have plucked your voice

and put them on my ears

just like a pair of earrings~Gulzar

Typing, Stereo.

"If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you're not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the creator, there's no poverty."~ Rilke

We always try to uncover the science behind everything but we miss out on the present that walks with that thing. All we are usually interested in, is what makes this? Or what will it become? These two poles separate us from the present that lies in the midway. The path is so very beautiful that it acts like an entity on it's own. But we usually don't care. Our judgements tend towards how it started. Also, we take pride in the fact that we could predict the future. Our present becomes just an action of prediction, removed from the action.

When I see people around, I see that even the everyday life of a human being has become an act of prediction. If I eat this, will it help my body? Does this juice contain enough multivitamins I need? That glass of some liquid (I choose not to name it because the one who drinks it sometimes doesn't even bother about it) is gulped down in some seconds with a proud countenance that some time has been saved in not thinking about the kind of liquid that was gulped down. Things are usually kept ready. Food, table, clothes, emails, templates etc. All we really need to do is~ just predict. (This prediction is also based on what has been already predicted by the stereotypical predictors) 

The worst kinds are those who never experience, or don't even know how it started but they predict. Most of these are based on their conventional thought processes and on the borrowed stereotyped notions. It never fails to amaze me how the brains of these people work. I have this turn off button in me when I see people jumping to the traditional set up. For example, I agree when people crib or complain about the mindset of people who are inclined towards only one form of society/culture. 

"They just don't know! They are not aware about these sitcoms Grey's Anatomy, Big Bang Theory and so many other funny things." 

I have heard these complaints. I talk about all these things with these people, including their Iron Maiden, Metallica and the Guns and Roses stuffs. It's not that I get bored or something. But I wonder that if I wanted to talk about Ghalib, Gulzar, Farida Khannum, Bharat ek Khoj, would they be interested? I have had negative experiences in the latter ones. People have limited their own mindset and stopped relishing almost everything. You don't think and relish. You relish and think about it. 

Grass usually is green beneath your foot. Just cut the weed of your own thought process and see how it pleases you!

यूँ भी सोचा जाए

यूँ भी सोचा जाए :

शब्दों में भरती है स्याही 

हमारे सोच की कलम 

हरे रंग में भर दिए जाते हैं 

कुछ चहकते पत्ते 

इठलाती चाल में जैसे 

रख दिए जाते हैं पानी के पैर 

सुगंध में सराबोर कर दिए जाते हैं 

मोगरे के फूल 

नीले रंग को उछाल उछाल कर 

बना दिया जाता है आकाश 

आवाज़ के घर में 

एक नन्हा सा दिल 

और भावनाओं के चादर पे 

सुला दिया जाता है इंसान 

उसकी सिलवटें बन जाती है 

ज़िन्दगी...

एक गिलहरी, जिस में भर दिया गया मेरा हाथ!